The Impossiblity to Survive
by Wildespeaks
Summary: Angst, mind you. A severly depressed oneshot.


Pain, something he knew all too well

Pain, something he knew all too well. It scared him, making him feel as if he were drowning, falling, dying. There was no way he could escape it, for it consumed him, tearing him apart, piece by piece until there was nothing left but small shards of the once full body that he had owned. He never knew anything could hurt so much, but, when you loose love, there's really nothing that can truly console you, truly heal you, no, it would always just bring pain. Too much, so much, an amount that threatened to shred him, make him feel each slice. He was truly suffocating, this was not a drill.

She was gone, floating away with a man who he knew could give her everything, yet he wished still that she was here, with him, never to leave his side, with him. She would never come back though, which he knew, and thus, his pain ensued. He could no longer keep up the charade of someone without fear, without hurt, without a heart. He could no longer stand the inexplicable truth.

He didn't know what he was doing, couldn't understand the feeling of being left, couldn't understand why she didn't want to stay. He didn't want to know anything anymore, he just wanted to lash out, release the pain, release the agony, release the feeling of dread. Leave it all behind, never to touch it again, never to be near it. Leave it, forever.

With unsteady hands he brought up the candle holder, not even noticing that he was singing the last song he would ever sing for her, to her, at her. He swung, twice at each mirror, letting the fury that enriched his soul free, letting out the torment and disfigurement that he had been subject to. He didn't want it anymore, he couldn't carry it anymore, he hadn't a reason to keep it anymore. A cry of agony followed this, the shattering of the mirrors that he had accumulated all those years ago, though never looking upon himself for too long, afraid of what he might see, what nightmares he might bring upon himself by looking at the sloppily constructed face. He couldn't bear it, so he let it out, let out that cry.

He no longer needed anything like that, no; he no longer needed some semblance of emotion. No one truly needed it, everyone should've given it up by now, it's no use to the human mind. He didn't want to feel like that anymore, so he didn't. He gave up his emotion, and, with the last curtain fall that he would experience in a long time, he gave up on her, upon his life, upon living.

No, he didn't forget the mask, the mask was of no use, none at all. There was no need for something that covered up and hid the devil that he was, he already knew about that, he didn't need to hide himself for his own piece of mind, nobody really noticed him anyways.

He was walking, away from the scene, towards some unknown destination, towards a new, yet distant future. He was moving away, far, far away. Somewhere unknown, he'd always wanted to see that place, but he'd never had the time, not with her around. He'd never felt the need to go anywhere else when he'd thought she'd loved him. No, no more. He didn't have her anymore, she didn't love him anymore, he wasn't the sweet angel that she had thought him to be, not the sparkling white made up angel, and now she hated him. Yes, that's what she said, hated. Her tears had become those of hatred instead of tears of pity, but he didn't need them anyways. He never needed them, all he needed was an emotion of love, but, anything that resembled it was torn away. His mother had loathed him, and now, here he was, walking to an unknown place, away from civilization. They were too preoccupied with watching his life burn into ash.

He didn't want to look at it all anymore, didn't want to know anything of the sort. He couldn't take it anymore, there was nothing for him, but yet he wanted to go back. Wanted to be with her. A moan, he was moaning, groaning, crying, falling, walking, dying. Life was slipping away from him, in his last moments, with his last bits of oxygen leaving him for someone new. He couldn't handle it anymore, and, with one last cry of agony, he was dead.

No longer did he breathe, or, at least he thought…..


End file.
